Dear friends, family, and the greater community:
My name is Katey Schultz and I offered to write this letter in support of Spruce Pine Montessori School, an exceptional place to which we both have a connection. My three-year-old son attends SPMS, but this is a story that began almost forty years ago. I realize you might delete this message right now; I’ve certainly done that in the past. But this is a story I need to tell you, and the happiness of a child in your life might depend upon it.
Her name was Mary Kay Malloy and in my memory, she is always backlit, a sort of halo around her short hair. She was my Primary teacher in Portland, Oregon, and I can still see her sitting in morning circle, leading us into the day. I can see the pink tower and the braiding board, too (one dark brown rope, one ivory, one orange). Somewhere there was a blue enamel bowl, likely for hand washing.
At the time, there was no way I could have understood that the freedom and guidance the curriculum offered, were ingredients for a meaningful life. But by giving my growing mind a safe place to explore, obsess, discover, and experiment, the Montessori school helped me experience the value of pursuing something out of pure interest and curiosity. It taught me that exploration and an open mind are valuable human qualities. And it did all of this in a community where older and younger children proved essential to each other’s development.
Our classroom was a miniature model of peaceful society: interdependent, evolving, and extraordinary, with an eye toward the greater good.
Flash forward to 2019 and a tiny, independent bookstore, again in Portland. I had traveled from my now home of Celo, North Carolina to read from my newly published novel. More than a quarter of the audience members were my childhood friends from Montessori and there, in the sixth row, sat Elise Henuke, my Upper Elementary teacher. An audience member asked me a question about maintaining a writing project, even in the face of rejection or a loss of faith. I told him I always try to write toward what I’m curious about, and what might make me feel happy. “If something makes me feel happy, it’s sustainable,” I added, and at this, silently, Elise began to weep.
My teacher was crying because she had taught me the value of curiosity and sustainability. She had taught me to believe in the process for its own sake. In short, she had taught me how to live a happy life and we both knew it.
Today, that kind of happiness is at risk for an important group of people: the children attending Spruce Pine Montessori School, and their teachers. As school closures across the globe have inspired innovation and exhaustion, the reality is that this 48-year-old nonprofit school is in the red. Furthermore, it anticipates losses exceeding $25,000 due to cancellation of its annual auction, nearly $30,000 per month in lost tuition through the pandemic’s shelter-in-place orders, as well as forced layoffs, overdue bills, and imbalances that may make it impossible to honor its existing payment contracts to teachers—now, next month, and into next year.
All of us are challenged financially in this difficult time, but my husband and I are extending ourselves to the school and we hope that you will consider making as small or as large a contribution as you can possibly afford. As I write my check I think of the promise that continuing this school holds for now and the future.
With all my happy heart,
Katey Schultz |
